Don't Fear the Reaper
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Even with black armour and a Death's Head painted on his visor, Raynor never thought of himself as being like the Grim Reaper. But as he stood aside and let Kerrigan take her vengeance, he had to wonder...


_A/N_

_So that no-one blames me for potentially spoiling _Heart of the Swarm_, I will say this from the outset-this is taken from the supposedly leaked ending of the game made public not too long ago, despite Activision's efforts. Is it legitimate? Maybe. Either way, consider yourselves warned in regards to spoilers._

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**Don't Fear the Reaper**

Jim Raynor's never felt like the Grim Reaper.

One might be surprised at such a revelation. His CMC armour, all black with the visage of the skull, the Death's Head…surely that's meant to invoke a sense of dread in his enemies. Fifteen years of possessing the armour of Mort, the effect would only get more intense over time. More lives sent to Hades, more blood on the scythe…yet he's never felt this way. Maybe it's because those who know him best wouldn't ever compare him to the Angel of Death, wouldn't mock his armour bar the occasional insult of "Skully." Now though, he wonders if the lack of comparison to Death was warranted. Because right now, in the lair of Death's true master, he doesn't feel that different from him…even if he still hates his guts.

Arcturus Mengsk seems to have that effect on people. Twisting individuals to his own goals, discarding them once their use has expired…just like he's doing to Kerrigan right now. He had her serve him for nearly a decade, then discarded her when the time was right. And now, history has repeated itself. History in a much shorter amount of time, and with a psi-screen being the cause of woe rather than the zerg, but repeated history nonetheless. He's standing there, over her body, content in his belief that he has finally defeated the Queen of Blades. He holds the device out, its effects like a knife tearing through one's mind. Now though, he's ready to drive it through her heart.

"Now, finally…you will die…"

Two angels of death, one with his hand pointed downwards. Striding into the room, Raynor extends his own outwards. To grasp the proverbial blade in one hand, while grasping the bastard's literal neck in the other.

"Change of plans," Raynor grunts, raising his suit's visor. Let the tyrant see the true face of death, rather than a mere façade.

Mengsk seems more surprised than frightened at this turn of events. He was obviously preparing for Kerrigan's arrival in his palace, given how he never attempted to flee and the device he had to use his former lieutenant's own psychic might against her. The possibility of having a "miserable rebel" act as a liability probably never entered the emperor's mind. Well, no matter. Tossing the despot across the room with one hand and crushing the device in his other. Four years is a long time, yet not nearly as long as it took Mengsk to overthrow the Confederacy, to make the transition from rebel crusader to the next bad egg. It's just as well really, Raynor tells himself, as he watches Kerrigan rise to her feet. He's done what had to be done. The longer the period between the start of his crusade, the higher the chance he'd end up like the former leader of the Sons of Korhal…bar being impaled by the Queen's wings of course.

Raynor winces as the pincers impale Arcturus's shoulders, pinning him against the far wall. He's glad his visor is back down, not wanting to give Mengsk fuel for any dying words he might have. This is Kerrigan's moment…for all their rocky history, as tentative he is about their alliance, he's willing to give her this.

"You've turned us all into monsters Arcturus…" the infested terran whispers, closing the gap between her and her nemesis as steadily as the march of death itself. "You can never suffer enough for what you've done…"

"Don't you dare judge me you filthy monstrosity! Take your vengeance and choke on the ashes!"

Raynor raises an eyebrow, a motion that none know of but him. To choke on the ashes…is this what Arcturus experienced, the bitter taste of victory after he toppled the Confederacy? A lack of anything substantial in his life and therefore a lack of interest in regards to making the Dominion an improvement from the old regime rather than a replacement? And Kerrigan…what about her? She takes her vengeance on her, then what? Will she reach the same hollowness that awaits all those who base their lives on vengeance? Will she return to being a tyrant, like Mengsk, perhaps even worse with the Swarm at her back?

Raynor now truly feels like the Grim Reaper. The Angel of Death, working through others. He wonders what he himself has become, how he can stand here and watch this happen, to risk all for what is admittedly some vengeance on his own part. The question is, what is this to Kerrigan?

"No Arcturus…" the Queen of Blades whispers, as if answering her comrade's question. "This isn't vengeance. This…is…justice!"

Raynor turns away…he's seen some pretty nasty things over the course of his life, but seeing a man decapitated still makes his stomach turn. Yet it's more bearable than it has been in the past, and not just because of the individual losing his head. The action itself, not in vengeance, but in justice. And as his gaze meets Kerrigan's, her visage telling him that she's done what had to be done, he can tell she agrees.

Raynor no longer feels like the Grim Reaper.


End file.
